


Someone’s out there, sending out flares

by voices_in_my_head



Category: Riverdale (TV 2017)
Genre: Alice hijacked this fic, I actually attempt to deal with the trauma the writers throw at the characters and then ignore, quarantine means working on WIPs, this takes place before the 2nd half of S2, yes I know I'm late to the party but better late than never
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-03-23
Updated: 2020-03-23
Packaged: 2021-03-01 00:14:13
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 10,698
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23286091
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/voices_in_my_head/pseuds/voices_in_my_head
Summary: "“Well, that’s all. Have a nice day, Fred. I, on the other hand, have to pick up FP,” she rolls her eyes again and Fred finally finds his words.“What happened to staying away from him?”Alice raises an eyebrow, “he was always more dangerous for you than for me, dear,” and with that, she turns around and walks away without waiting for a goodbye."
Relationships: Archie Andrews & Fred Andrews, Fred Andrews/FP Jones II
Comments: 10
Kudos: 18





	Someone’s out there, sending out flares

**Author's Note:**

> I thought I might as well take this quarantined time to finish some WIPs. This particularly one, I started years ago and it was supposed to be longer, but alas, I am out of the fandom, so accept this.
> 
> As the tag says, it takes place before the 2nd half of Riverdale's S2, so basically only goes up to the 9th episode. In case you guys don't remember, at the time the craziest things going on were the Red Circle, the Black Hood and Jughead joining the Serpents.

Fred first hears it from Jughead, though he isn’t the only person talking about it. However, he certainly is the happiest. And perhaps the word “hears” isn’t correct, since he reads the news.

Fred isn’t very good at technology, to the surprise of exactly no one, but he takes pride in knowing how to text and since Jughead decided to go back to living in the trailer, that’s how they keep in touch, besides, of course, Archie telling Fred about him.

It’s not exactly a daily thing, it’s not even timed, and usually it’s Fred who starts the conversation with a “how have you been?” where the reply is very rarely anything but a “fine, you?” They’re never very long conversations but Fred hopes they’re enough to remind Jughead that he cares about him, and is there if he ever needs him.

Anyway, it’s by text that Fred finds out FP is being released. Jughead’s text, in fact, and Fred will be the first to acknowledge that figuring out the type of tone one is going for through text isn’t always easy, but Jughead’s excited “my dad is being released!!” really can’t be taken any other way than what it’s meant as.

Fred responds with a “that’s great” and adds a smiley face for good measure, knowing that it will make Jughead roll his eyes. And really, he thinks that’s it.

Of course, Riverdale being what it is, it’s very much not the end of it. Why Fred even thought otherwise, seeing as the house in front of him belongs to the Coopers, is beyond him. Hope is the last to die, as they say.

“Have you heard?” Alice asks, just as he’s leaving the house, and Fred has absolutely no doubt that she did it on purpose to catch him. He turns after locking the house with a defeated sigh.

“What, Alice?”

Once upon a time perhaps they could have been considered friends, but nowadays they’re barely acquaintances. Neighbors on a good day. Fred hasn’t figured out yet if this day is one of those.

Alice raises an eyebrow, like he’s being purposely stupid. “FP is getting out.”

“Yeah, Jug told me.”

Alice rolls her eyes, “of course he did.”

Fred sighs again, “is that it, Alice?”

Alice narrows her eyes and if Fred wasn’t on the end of that look at least once a week, more if he was unlucky, perhaps he’d be afraid. As it is, he can’t help but to amuse himself by imagining them exactly like this in thirty years. Alice could be on a wheelchair and somehow, she’d still be causing trouble. Hell, possibly more than she is now. No one wants to piss off someone in a wheelchair. Though to be fair, no one wants to piss off Alice anyway. Quite vengeful, that one.

“I just want to make sure that you haven’t forgotten all his crimes,” Alice’s voice brings him back to the here and now and Fred has no idea where exactly she’s trying to take this conversation to.

“What?”

Alice takes a step forward and Fred has to stop himself from taking one backwards, mostly because he knows he’d only run into the door and Alice really doesn’t need more ammunition against him. He doesn’t know whether to be thankful or not she decided to be a reporter instead of a politician. Or, God forbid, a lawyer.

“We both know you and FP have a… connection, shall we say. I just don’t want to see you making a mistake. After all, you’ve already been shot once.”

Fred raises both eyebrows, genuinely caught by surprise and out of words.

Alice smiles and her whole face changes and Fred feels some pity for the poor schmuck she goes at with that innocent smile. They never stood a chance.

“Well, that’s all. Have a nice day, Fred. I, on the other hand, have to pick up FP,” she rolls her eyes again and Fred finally finds his words.

“What happened to staying away from him?”

Alice raises an eyebrow, “he was always more dangerous for you than for me, dear,” and with that, she turns around and walks away without waiting for a goodbye. Not that she usually did; Alice always had liked her dramatics.

And Fred knows that continuing to stand there, just looking at her crossing the road and entering her house, is only giving her ammunition, but her words are still running through his head. _“Connection?” “Dangerous?”_

Fred forces himself to shake his head, as if shaking the thoughts away, and goes down the steps to his truck. Inside, he shakes his head one more time before putting the key in the ignition, and even chuckles for a couple seconds.

Whatever connection he and FP had, has been gone for a long time. Alice has nothing to worry about.

.

Fred isn’t expecting to see FP the next day at Pop’s. Or, more precisely, he isn’t expecting to see him wearing the white uniform of Pop’s.

“Hey, Fred,” FP says with a real smile when Fred enters and Fred bites the first three things that pop onto his mind, all variations of the question “what are you doing here?”

_“Turning a new leaf,”_ he tells himself instead, trying to feel happy. Jughead deserves a present parent and Fred has always known FP could be more than just a drunk deadbeat dad.

“Hey, FP,” Fred offers his hand and FP takes it after a second of being surprised. “I’m glad you’re out.”

“Thanks, so am I,” FP drops his hands and Fred immediately misses the heat. Ever since he got out of the hospital, he never feels quite warm enough. The temperature dropping hasn’t helped matters. “I heard about your shooting.”

“Yeah,” Fred says, knowing that he’s probably supposed to say something else, but it’s taking all his willpower not to turn his head to the spot on the floor where he’d almost bled to death. Where his son had almost watched him die. So instead he takes a deep breath and repeats himself, “yeah.”

FP is studying him and Fred had forgotten what it was like to have all his attention on him. Once upon a time it used to be like that; FP’s eyes on you could make you feel like you were the only person in the world. But that has been gone for a long time, more often than not his eyes not being able to stick to one place for long.

But now it’s back to being how it was and Fred thinks back to Alice’s warning of the previous day, and when he tells himself she was being ridiculous, it sounds a bit faker than before.

“How you doing, Freddy? For real?” FP asks and it’s not like it’s the first time Fred has been asked that, but ever since Mary came back to see him back to health, it is the first time he feels like being honest.

“It’s…” Fred turns to look to his left. Pop’s isn’t full, but there’s enough people around that Fred doesn’t feel comfortable talking about this in public.

“Hey, how about you come for a drink later tonight? Non-alcoholic though, I joined the AA,” FP offers and Fred feels a genuine smile steal onto his face.

“That’s great FP, really.”

FP shrugs, “it was more than time.”

Fred nods, because yeah, it was, but he’s glad FP finally reached that decision by himself.

They stare at each other in silence for some more seconds before FP’s attention is taken by a client.

“So hey, I’ll see you tonight at 9?” FP asks and Fred nods.

“Yeah, I’ll see you there.”

FP sends him a last smile and then he’s walking around the counter and Fred leaves Pop’s, forgetting what he’d even come for in the first place.

.

The trailer looks clean, is the first thing Fred notices after FP has opened the door and stepped aside to let him in.

The second, once Fred looks back to FP, is that he looks nice. Well, okay, whatever can be said about FP, him not looking good has never been the problem, even when he was rocking a pretty disheveled look. If someone could make it work, it’s FP. Fred’s pretty sure that if he tried the same thing, he’d be taken to see a doctor.

“I have soda, milk, tea, coffee…” FP starts offering as he walks backwards to the small kitchen. Fred follows him inside.

“Coffee would be great.”

FP nods, “coffee it is. ‘Won’t surprise you to know that’s the one thing Jug makes sure is always around.”

Fred smiles at that, “yeah, took me a while to realize why I was needing to buy it earlier than expected but I caught on.”

For some reason, that makes FP pause in getting the water. He turns towards Fred, looking unsure.

“Hey, so, I know feeding one teenage boy isn’t cheap, much less two-”

“Let me stop you right there, FP. I wouldn’t have offered Jughead my home if I didn’t want to.”

FP raises an eyebrow, “come on, Fred, you’re not exactly the type to let a teenage boy sleep on the streets even if you couldn’t afford it.”

And okay, that may be true, but it wasn’t the case.

“It’s fine, FP, really. I’m just sorry I couldn’t take him while you were in prison.”

FP shrugs, “from what he says, the foster family was nice. Jug’s the one that wanted to stay here. He’s always liked his space.”

Fred nods because yes, he remembers when Archie and Jughead were kids and Archie got upset because suddenly Jug got too quiet, didn’t want to play anymore, just wanted to be left alone. Mary and Gladys had been worried for a while, but FP had told them that was just the way Jug was and Fred had gone along with it. And he had been right.

FP passes a hand through his neck, a nervous gesture that Fred remembers from high school.

“I never did thank you for taking him in when I couldn’t. I,” he frowns, “I was messed up. But I’m better now. And I am trying.”

Fred smiles, “I know you are,” he walks to FP and squeezes his arm, “and you’re doing a good job.”

“Thanks,” FP says and smiles and it’s so beautiful Fred is blindsided for a second.

They stay just staring at each other for a few seconds before Fred forces himself to let go and goes to sit at the table.

FP turns away and staring at his back, all Fred can think is _“shit.”_ Maybe Alice really was onto something.

.

The next time Fred sees FP, FP invites him to his retirement party.

“You’re not even fifty and you started working here less than a week,” is Fred’s response.

FP rolls his eyes, “not from here, obviously,” he pauses and when he continues, it’s in a serious tone, “from the Serpents.”

“Oh,” Fred says, raising both eyebrows, surprised.

FP shrugs, like it means nothing, but Fred remembers them being sixteen and FP being thrown out and deciding to take his lot up with a gang and yeah, Fred hadn’t understood it, much less liked it, but it had been a surprisingly good fit.

Instead of becoming more aggressive, like Fred had expected, instead FP had seemed to find a place to be himself and had instead gotten calmer. At the time, Fred might have been jealous – he’d decided not to go too far in studying whether he was jealous of the feeling of belonging that FP had found or because he’d found it without him – but he’d had time to accept it since then, and truth be told, he’s never expected FP to willingly let go of his family.

“I think it’s time. They’ve been… good to me. And for me. And I sure hope I’ve been good to them, but… I think it’s time. Turning over a new leaf.”

“If it’s what you want,” Fred says.

“It is,” FP nods and he does sound like he’s made his decision, so Fred lets it go.

“And Jughead?”

FP frowns and clearly, it’s a soft spot. “He likes being with them. He’s found a place he belongs. And I can’t exactly blame him for it when that’s exactly how I felt when I first joined up.”

“He’s a good kid,” Fred offers, not feeling obligated in any way, because that’s something he’d always believed in and always would.

FP nods, “yeah, he is. But doesn’t mean he can’t make bad decisions. And doesn’t mean they won’t take him down the wrong path.”

Fred opens his mouth to say something, but closes it before any word comes out. He thinks about Archie, about the Red Circle nonsense and yes, he certainly knows what it’s like to watch your kid go down a path you don’t approve of, but most importantly, don’t know how to save them from.

“Anyway, party’s at the White Wyrm, come whenever. Archie should be around.”

Fred nods, “yeah, he could probably use a good time.”

“Oh?” FP asks, raising an eyebrow and Fred missed this, talking about their kids.

Fred smiles knowingly, “girl problems.”

FP laughs at that. “Some things never change with you Andrews men.”

“No idea what you mean,” Fred answers through a smile, and his mouth is actually starting to hurt. It’s been a while since he smiled this much. He grabs the bag Pop left for him and hands a few notes to FP. “I’ll see you later.”

“See ya,” FP says with a smile and Fred leaves the restaurant feeling like he’s left a weight behind, even though he has no idea what weight could have been dragging him down.

.

The White Wyrm is… well, it hasn’t changed in the many years that Fred hasn’t put a foot in it and it certainly has been a long time, one last hurrah before Archie was born and that had been it.

Fred can’t say he’s missed it but he also knows he’s looking at it from an outsider’s perspective. For him, it’s a place where a gang meets to do whatever gangs do. But to most of them, it’s home, a place to be themselves. Fred may not totally grasp it but he respects it.

He sees Alice and goes to talk to her, even though it’s probably a mistake. Still, just standing by himself in the middle of the bar does not seem like a good idea. And the kids are… wherever they are. Fred didn’t come to chaperone anyone.

“Alice, hello,” Fred says, leaning over the bar so they don’t have to yell to hear each other. He says it in a kind of amused tone, the one he usually uses around Alice, because more often than not that’s just the way he feels about her. Like she’s been straight up taken from a soap opera. Of course, the other times he’s reminded that Alice is not one to be messed with.

Alice raises an eyebrow and at least she seems to be in a good mood.

“Fred, I didn’t expect to see you here. Though that’s probably stupid of me,” she offers and Fred rolls his eyes.

He turns to the bartender, “a beer, please.”

“Don’t listen to him. He’ll have tequila, like I will.”

Fred turns to Alice with a raised eyebrow, “and how many of those have you had yet?”

Alice raises her eyebrow again, “I’m sorry, I thought I’d left my husband at home.”

“As if he could ever keep you in check.”

Alice smiles, showing off her teeth, “yes, well, it’s not the 17th century anymore, so I don’t need a man to keep me in check.”

Fred straightens up, “I’m sorry, that was a rude thing to say. Of course you don’t; you’re not a kid and like you said, it’s not the 17th century.”

Alice hands him one of the shot glasses and Fred figures he’s forgiven. Though now he really can’t get away from drinking it.

Fred takes the glass, “okay, but just this one. I’m still on pills.”

Alice’s eyes soften at that. She puts a hand on his arm, “I hope you’re feeling better, Fred.”

Fred nods, “I am, thank you, Alice.”

“If you need anything… You really scared us, Fred.”

Fred can’t help but to raise an eyebrow at that and comes really close to saying _“I didn’t know you cared so much, Alice”_ but he’s already shot himself on the foot once tonight, the least he can do is to try and not do it again. Certainly not in less than five minutes.

“I’m okay, Alice,” he tells her again and she squeezes once before letting go. They drink their shots in a go and God, Fred did not miss the taste of White Wyrm’s tequila. He swears it’s worse than anywhere else he’s drunk it in.

They chat for a couple more minutes and then people start doing karaoke. Fred hears Archie’s voice but is feeling comfortable at the bar, so he doesn’t move. There’s a sudden break and the crowd is booing and Fred looks surprised at where the stage is, though he can’t see it with everyone in front of him. Seems like he and Veronica aren’t completely good yet.

A new voice starts in and the crowd quiets down.

“That’s Betty. She doesn’t usually sing in public,” Alice says.

“It’s a special night,” Fred offers and Alice frowns at him. “Come on, Alice, you know Jughead is a good kid.”

“He’s also just joined a gang.”

And okay, Fred can’t exactly argue with that. Alice leans back from the bar and he can see she’s about to walk off, so before that happens, he puts a hand on her arm, making her turn to look at him with a raised eyebrow.

“He’s good for her. And to her.”

Alice stares for a few more seconds before shrugging him off, though not aggressively, and then turns towards the stage. Fred does the same, though once he can see what’s actually happening, he wishes he hadn’t.

Fred turns to look at Alice, because seeing Betty doing a striptease is about the last thing he ever wished to see.

Alice is looking shocked at her daughter and of course tries to stop her, but Betty just keeps going, though Fred refuses to look back at her. This is wrong in so many levels he doesn’t even know where to start.

Luckily it finishes quickly and FP shows up, clapping and thankfully giving Betty his jacket.

And then there’s a speech and Fred leaves.

He should have known better than to believe FP.

.

Fred comes in through the back door and the first thing he sees is Archie’s dejected face as he eats ice cream.

“I gather things didn’t go well with Veronica,” Fred says, entering and locking the door behind him.

Archie’s only response is to shake his head, continuing to take big spoonfuls out of Ben & Jerry’s cookie dough ice cream, his favorite, and which Fred had made sure to buy two pots when Archie had first told him about his dilemma with Veronica.

Fred gets a spoon for himself and sits on the stool next to Archie, who wordlessly puts the pot between them. As expected, most of the cookie dough is gone by now.

“You wanna tell me about it?” Fred asks after one spoonful. He usually isn’t one for very sweet things but the ice cream is just hitting the spot.

Archie sighs before responding, “I really did try to be okay with her not saying it back but…”

“You think because she doesn’t say it, she doesn’t feel it?” Fred asks and Archie sends him a look. Got it in one, then. “Actions do speak louder than words, Archie.”

Archie sighs again, “I know that. And I feel… ashamed that I’m still hanged up on this but it’s like… no matter how much I say that it doesn’t matter, a part of me is hurt that she won’t say it back.”

Fred takes his time in swallowing the next spoonful, thinking it through.

“You should give her time,” Archie sends him a look and Fred puts both hands up, spoon still in one, “but you shouldn’t torture yourself.”

Archie looks back at the ice cream, sighing before eating another spoonful.

Fred eats two more before Archie turns to him, “and you? How was your night?”

For a few minutes there, Fred had forgotten what had made him drive home so early, but Archie’s words are a grim reminder.

“I just didn’t feel like being there,” Fred answers and it isn’t a lie, but it’s not the whole truth. By Archie’s raised eyebrow, he knows it too.

“Come on dad, we’ve talked about this. I want to be here for you as you are for me.”

Fred can’t help but to smile proudly at his grown-up son and with his free hand messes up his hair. Archie leans back, trying to shake away the hand, but not too hard.

Once his hand is back by his side, Fred eats another spoonful and yes, this time he is stalling. Though it can’t last for long, since Archie had gotten to the pot first and it’s almost empty. At least Fred finally got some of the cookie dough.

“Come on, dad, spill it.”

“Were you around for FP’s speech?” Fred asks and Archie shakes his head.

“No, I left after the karaoke.” There’s a pause and when Fred doesn’t continue right away, Archie prods him, “what happened? Was he drunk?”

Hearing Archie’s distressed tone, Fred’s quick to reassure him, “no, no, nothing like that.”

“Oh good, ‘cuz that would break Jughead’s heart. FP seems to really be turning a new leaf.”

Fred can’t help but to make a face at that and Archie frowns, “what happened, dad?”

Fred sighs, feeling like he’s making a bigger deal of this than it actually is. “Turns out it wasn’t exactly a retirement party. Or if it was, no one told FP.”

“What?” Archie continues to frown, now looking at Fred confusingly too.

“He told everyone that he was staying on as a Serpent.”

“Oh,” Archie says and by his tone, Fred can’t tell if he sees it as a positive or negative thing. Archie takes another spoonful and so does Fred, feeling his spoon touching the end of the pot. He wonders if this was Archie’s first or not.

Once they’ve finished the pot, they’re silent. Fred steals a glance at Archie, looking thoughtful at the now empty pot of ice cream and wonders if he’s thinking about Veronica, FP, Jughead or something completely unrelatable.

“They’re really different from us.”

“FP and Jughead?” Fred asks with a raised eyebrow.

“Yeah. But I meant the whole Southside too. Was it always like this?” Archie turns his attention to him.

“Always? No. But I can’t remember it ever being any different. And even my dad, he talked with some prejudice… So I think it’s been this way a long time.”

“Do you think it can change?”

“Sure. Will it? Now that’s a whole different question.”

Archie thinks that through. “Why do you think FP stayed as a Serpent? He seemed to want out.”

Fred shrugs, acting more carefree than he feels, “who knows what goes on in that head of his.”

“You used to be best friends, right? Didn’t you use to know?”

Fred opens his mouth to answer, but closes it before saying anything, seeing Archie’s painful look. He decides to change tactics, “just because me and FP aren’t close anymore, doesn’t mean that’ll happen to you and Jughead.”

“So, you’re telling me you didn’t start falling apart when FP joined the Serpents?” Archie asks and seems to take Fred’s silence as assent. He says in a sad tone, “thought so.”

They’re silent after that for a while, but this time Fred doesn’t ponder on what Archie is thinking about, being caught up in his own thoughts. He wants to say something, but everything he thinks about seems like either a cliché or not good enough. Yet, simply getting up and saying goodnight doesn’t seem like enough.

“Jughead… He had to do something as a favor for someone to get FP out of jail.”

“What?” Fred asks, in a louder tone than usual, but that was absolutely not what he had been expecting to hear.

“I mean, no, that’s not how FP got out of jail but… Jughead didn’t have any ideas on how to make sure the trial went in his favor so he met some hot shot Serpent lawyer and she told him what to do… And then she asked for a favor.”

“Archie… this favor, was it illegal?” Fred asks, though he desperately doesn’t want the answer. However, Archie’s silence destroys any hope he had that maybe the woman had simply wanted an article written or whatever. “And… were you involved?”

Again, Archie’s only response is silence. Fred thinks this through. On one hand, he’s incredibly angry that Archie keeps getting himself in these situations, not realizing how dangerous they can be, but on the other he’s incredibly proud of his loyalty to his family and friends.

“I think he’s in over his head, dad,” Fred puts a hand on Archie’s shoulder, squeezing. “And I don’t know how to help.”

“You just have to be there for him, son. Especially when he tries to push you away.”

“That’s what FP said,” Archie says and Fred frowns, so he continues. “When we found out Jug was going to go to Southside High, I went to visit FP in prison, trying to make him say yes to the deal. He said he couldn’t do that to the Serpents and that Jug was a tough kid. But he also said that he was going to try to pull away from me and Betty, and that we had to stick by him.”

Fred doesn’t know what to say to that.

Archie sends him a look, “you should do the same to FP, dad. Just because you’re not close right now… it doesn’t mean you can’t go back to it.”

“Our differences are a bit bigger than going to different high schools,” Fred says, even though he knows Jughead going to Southside High was much more than a simple “different school”. Yet, he is trying pretty hard to pretend that his son’s life hasn’t gotten as crazy as it really has over the past few months.

Archie opens his mouth to say something else but Fred continues before he can speak, “but I’ll try. I promise.”

Archie smiles at him and then gets up. “I think it’s time I go to bed.”

“Goodnight, son,” Fred says and Archie gives him a quick hug, mindful of where the scar is still healing.

After Archie leaves, Fred leisurely gets up, throwing the empty pot away and putting the spoons in the sink to be washed in the morning. Slowly, he climbs the stairs and promises himself that he will do as he said and go see FP the next day.

.

Around lunch time, Fred enters Pop’s. He walks towards the counter, where Pop’s already has his order waiting in a paper bag.

“Smells delicious as always,” Fred says, handing him a couple bills.

“You know you don’t need to butter me up,” Pop’s says with a smile and Fred smiles back.

“Just saying the truth,” Fred replies and Pop’s starts to wipe the counter. Fred looks around and when he can’t see FP, turns back to Pop’s, “hey, FP not around?”

Pop’s frowns at him, then sighs. “You know, I really wanted to give him a chance…”

It’s Fred’s turn to frown, “he didn’t show up?”

Pop’s shakes his head, “and without warning. I don’t want to fire him but…” He shrugs, “can’t be setting a bad example.”

Fred nods, “yeah, I get you. Well, I’ll be going.”

Pop’s waves him away and Fred exits the diner. He’s frowning as he enters his car, not starting it right away. He looks at the passenger seat where he’s put the food for a few moments before coming to a decision, and driving off.

.

Fred is a safe driver so it takes him over twenty minutes to reach FP’s trailer. He hadn’t felt good about lying to Hermione, telling her he wasn’t coming in the afternoon because he felt ill, but he remembers the promise he made to Archie, and if he’s honest, he wants to do this for himself too.

And for FP.

Fred has been friends with FP for a long time and he’s seen him through most of the benders. Nowadays he feels ashamed at how quickly he gave up on FP, but at the time it seemed like the right choice. He had a young son and that always had to come first.

Yet, Archie had been right. FP had had his own family too and if Fred thinks about it, he’s pretty sure that if the tables had been turned, Fred would have had to burn the business down for FP to fire him, and even then, who knew.

FP’s loyalty was for life, even when unrequited.

Fred knocks at the trailer, no idea what he’s going to find when FP answers the door. If he even does it; nothing good can come of FP missing a shift at Pop’s, especially so soon after leaving prison.

It takes two more knockings but FP finally opens the door. He’s unshaved and he looks like he’s slept in his clothes. His eyes aren’t bloodshot but Fred feels like it’s a close thing.

“How are you feeling?” Fred asks, deciding to go for a softer approach than an immediate “why weren’t you at pop’s?” since that’s more Alice’s approach. Besides, he isn’t FP’s keeper.

FP frowns in silence for a few seconds before speaking, and his voice does sound raspy, “normal. What?”

“Didn’t see you at Pop’s,” Fred answers.

FP seems to study him for a few seconds before stepping aside, silently inviting Fred in.

Fred stands in the middle of the living room as FP closes the door and leans against the wall by it.

“’Didn’t wake up right.”

“Oh?”

“Just ask what you want to ask, Fred,” FP says and he sounds more tired than anything else. Fred just wants to shake him because FP is more than aware he has a problem. He just… can’t seem to deal with it. But maybe the problem is that he’s been having to deal with it alone. Or with his teenage son, who shouldn’t have to be around for this.

“I’m not here to judge you, FP,” Fred says, making up his mind. He’s not leaving FP alone until he tells him so. Not again.

FP studies him again, but Fred doesn’t even feel the need to fidget, not when he’s been living in front of Alice Cooper’s house for over a decade.

FP sighs and goes to sit on the sofa, dropping heavily on it.

“Things are… they’re fucked up,” he says and Fred frowns.

“What happened?”

FP sighs again, looking at Fred as he speaks. “Jughead made a deal with someone pretty bad to get information on how to get me out.”

Fred frowns harder, remembering Archie’s words, “Archie told me about this. He said Jughead and him did that person a favor… an illegal one. But I thought that was it.”

FP clenches his jaw before replying, “yeah, so did Jughead. This person doesn’t think so and getting on her bad side… It’s a deadly mistake.”

“So what now?”

FP shrugs, but with the way his shoulders remain tense, it doesn’t look half as easy going as he’s trying to make it look. “I’m in, he’s out.”

“You just got out of prison,” Fred points out and FP glares.

“So what? I’m supposed to just let my kid be a drug mule?”

Fred looks shocked at him.

“Archie didn’t tell you?”

Fred shakes his head, “no, he didn’t say what the favor was. Only that it was illegal,” he sighs, “I probably shouldn’t be surprised.”

FP doesn’t say anything to that and it’s Fred’s turn to study him. It’s clear that he drunk some last night, but he doesn’t look like he’s gone on a bender. Fred is unfortunately familiar with a hangover FP. As it is, he doesn’t look like he drunk that much. Unfortunately, “not much” is still too much alcohol when it comes to FP and his addiction.

“What happened to AA?” Fred asks, changing the subject because there isn’t much more he can say to that. Of course, FP isn’t going to go back on his word, not when it would mean God knows what type of retaliation on Jughead, and of course he isn’t going to accept any type of plan Fred has, which would all involve the sheriff, if not more law enforcement.

FP sends him a challenging look, “I think after discovering Jughead not only did the one thing I asked him not to, but lied to me as well, I deserved a couple drinks.”

“Just a couple?” Fred pushes, knowing he probably shouldn’t, but better him than Jughead.

FP clenches his jaw before forcing himself to relax. “I thought you weren’t here to judge.”

Fred sighs. FP can never make things easy. “Look FP, I can’t say I understand things with the Serpents and… you do what you gotta do, but Jughead has been through enough.”

FP glares at him, “I fucking well know that.”

Fred doesn’t glare back, but he feels the instinct to. He doesn’t know how to continue the conversation without it devolving into even more of an argument.

“I’m not going to force my company when it’s clearly unwanted, but if you want or need to talk… about anything, you know where to find me,” Fred says and walks to the door.

He’s already opened it when he hears FP clear his throat and turns back to him. They’re silent for a few seconds before FP nods to the kitchen, “I’m gonna make a coffee. You want one?”

Fred closes the door. Then he follows FP into the kitchen.

.

For the first time in a long time, Fred is barely prepared for Christmas. Usually it’s almost a war between him and the Coopers to see not only who starts decorating their house earlier but also who does it bigger. Since Mary left, Fred has pretty much lost that contest and this year doesn’t seem to be going any differently, even if he does still try.

Yet, the fact is that he has no money for any decorations that don’t include the ones kept away in a couple boxes in the basement. If he were alone, Fred is pretty sure that this year he would let it pass without putting a single light outside, but there’s Archie to consider.

Archie, who loves Christmas, and who learnt to love it from Fred, who has always seen Christmas as a happy time. It’s when family comes together, when you show each other appreciation… what’s there not to like about it?

Fred sure does appreciate the people in his life, but it’s hard to focus on the good things when he’s cutting up trees to try and pay his hospital bill. Just seeing that number had almost given him a heart attack, which would have been ironic, since if that had had happened and he’d ended up back in the hospital, that would have just upped his hospital bill. As it is, Fred is pretty sure he’s never putting foot in a hospital again unless he breaks a bone. And even then, he’ll have to weigh the pros and cons.

Still, he forces himself to leave the melancholy behind. He’s alive, mostly healthy, has an amazing son, is on pretty good terms with his future ex-wife, and things with FP are… improving. They’ve met up a couple times for coffee and it’s been fun.

Every time there’s been a kind of tense aura around it, making Fred question whether they were on a date or not, but he’d never asked and neither had FP, so for now they continued to be on this limbo. Fred is surprisingly okay with it. They’re not teenagers anymore, with hormones jumping, making them feel something one day, completely differently the next. Whether they’re on a path to dating or not, Fred is happy to be on this path.

It’s the night before Christmas and Fred is feeling like next year is going to be a good one.

And then he gets a call from Tom Keller.

“Hey sheriff, what can I do to help you?” Fred asks in a polite tone, but a bit closed off because he sincerely doubts Tom is calling him to wish him merry Christmas.

“Hey Fred, you need to come by the station.”

Fred frowns, “is everything alright? Did something happen with Archie?”

There’s a beat before Tom answers, which does absolutely nothing to calm Fred down. “We got the Black Hood.”

This time, Fred doesn’t say anything, just waits for Tom to continue, because surely there’s something more.

“He was going after Betty and Archie.”

“What? Are they-”

“They’re fine. Physically, anyway. Emotionally… they’re gonna need a lot of support. Especially Archie. Look, Fred, there’s no easy way to say this, but the Black Hood… he told Betty that if she didn’t bury Archie alive, he’d kill her. He was only there for less than a minute but… he’s pretty shaken up, as you can imagine.”

Fred doesn’t reply. He doesn’t think he could even if he wanted to. His brain is stuck on the fact that not that long ago his son was buried alive.

Fred suddenly takes in a deep breath, like he’s about to break down and start crying, but he forces himself to just take a second deep breath. He can’t break down, not right now, not when his son needs him.

“Fred?”

“I’ll be there as soon as possible.”

“Drive safely,” Tom says but Fred doesn’t reply before disconnecting and pretty much running out of the house, not even caring to turn off the lights or make sure the house is locked safely.

Archie was buried alive. The house can be robbed for all he cares.

It doesn’t take Fred very long to get to the station, though he barely remembers the drive. God, he’s pretty sure he hasn’t gone to the station as much as in this school year, and it’s barely halfway through.

Fred pretty much runs inside, though luckily Archie is just at the entrance. Fred barely pays attention to anything else before he’s hugging Archie to an inch of his life.

Archie hugs back just as hard and for a few seconds all Fred can think is “I’m never letting him go” with a mixture of “he’s okay, he’s okay” thrown in for good measure.

Though really, how okay can a teenager be after his best friend was forced by a psychotic maniac to bury him alive? Fred has to take deep breaths to not have some type of attack right there. Archie needs him right now; he can figure out everything else later.

“I’m okay, dad, I’m okay,” Archie starts murmuring by his ear and Fred wonders who he’s trying to convince: Fred or himself.

“He’s never gonna hurt you again,” Fred promises, not simply remembering Tom’s words, but mostly thinking that he will kill that son of a bitch before he ever comes less than a hundred feet from Archie.

Finally, they let go, though Fred doesn’t step back, leaving barely a couple feet in between. Archie doesn’t seem to mind the lack of space.

Fred turns around and sees Betty in a corner, with Alice and Hal sitting on each side. Fred wonders when they got there; hell, maybe they’ve been there all along and he never noticed. It doesn’t seem like Alice or Hal noticed his presence either.

The three of them are talking in low tones and Fred turns back to Archie.

“Are you ready to go home?”

Archie nods, “yeah, the sheriff just told me to wait here for you. I’ve already given a statement though he said I’d probably have to come back for follow-up questions.”

Fred nods, moving so that he’s leading Archie out of the station with a hand on his upper back.

“I’m calling your mom the moment we get home.”

Archie turns his head to him, “dad, no, she doesn’t need to know.”

Fred frowns at him, “Archie, what you’ve been through… your mother absolutely needs to know. And I know you want her here.”

Archie doesn’t say anything and Fred starts to think something is wrong before he notices how tense Archie is and finally, he understands how hard Archie is trying to keep himself together.

By this point, they’re outside the station, which is pretty much empty, so Fred sees no problem in turning to Archie and hugging him again. Not that he would have a problem either way, but the last thing Archie needs is an audience.

This time, Archie pretty much just falls onto Fred, not even trying to hug back, just putting his head underneath Fred’s neck. He cries so silently that if it wasn’t for the fact Fred can feel his clothes getting wet, he wouldn’t even know Archie was crying.

“It’s going to be okay, son,” Fred says and kisses the top of Archie’s head, promising himself he won’t be the first one to let go.

He doesn’t know how long they stay like that, but finally he hears Archie take a deep breath and taking a step away from Fred. He immediately lifts a hand to wipe away the tear marks. Nothing to help with the red eyes, though.

“I’m so sorry you had to go through that,” Fred says, with a hand on Archie’s arm. He doesn’t feel like letting go quite yet.

“It wasn’t your fault, dad,” Archie mutters, apparently embarrassed by the tears.

“No, it was that murderer’s fault, but it doesn’t mean I’m not sorry. Now, we’re going to go home and I’m going to make us some hot chocolate. Tomorrow, I’ll call your mother first thing in the morning and then we’re going to search for a psychologist to see us.”

“Dad, I don’t need to see anyone. I’m not crazy,” Archie argues and Fred squeezes his arm.

“I know you’re not crazy, Arch. The shrink isn’t just for that. You’ve been through a really difficult time and you need someone to talk to-”

“I have you and Betty and-”

“Betty should see someone too. I should have done this ever since I got shot. You’re going through a really hard time, I just wanna make sure you deal with it. It’s not a punishment, okay? You didn’t do anything wrong, Archie.”

Archie looks at him for a few more seconds in silence, and Fred wonders if maybe he should have waited to spring this on him, but it’s something that has been on his mind for a while and he regrets not having acted earlier, ever since the Red Circle thing first came up. No, it wasn’t Fred’s fault Archie was targeted by the Black Hood, but that probably happened because Archie dared to go against him in the first place and Fred hadn’t tried hard enough to stop that madness.

“Okay, dad,” Archie concedes, defeated, and it breaks Fred’s heart to hear him like that.

Fred kisses his forehead and then leads Archie to the passenger seat, having to stop himself from putting Archie’s seat belt around him, as if he was a little kid.

Fred starts the car and drives away. What a Christmas.

.

It’s three am and Fred can’t sleep. The clock he has on the bedside table is ticking the seconds away and Fred has already gotten up six times that night to make sure Archie is safe, in his bedroom.

The first two times he ended up holding Archie while he cried.

Fred takes a deep breath and turns in his bed. Usually he doesn’t have trouble sleeping, but this isn’t exactly a normal night. Finally, he gives up and gets out of bed. It’s not like he has anything planned for the day, anyway.

After making sure Archie is in his room, soundly asleep, Fred goes down to the kitchen, making sure to do it with barely any sound.

Vega raises his head from his bed when he sees him pass, but even for him it’s too early, so he just puts it back down, probably falling asleep immediately.

Fred sits on one of the stools, putting his elbows on the table and letting his head fall onto his hands. God, everything is fucked up and he has no idea what to do.

Fred stays like that for several minutes before getting his phone out of his pocket.

He stares at it for a few seconds, debating who to call. He thinks of Alice and Hal; if anyone knows what he’s going through right now, it would be them. But they have each other and anyway, they deal with things their own way. Fred doesn’t want to mess that up.

It doesn’t take long at all before Fred has clicked the green button when he reaches FP’s number.

It takes several rings for him to pick up, so long Fred has almost given up, but before he can disconnect, he hears FP’s sleepy voice, “hello?”

“Hey FP,” Fred says but then is incapable of saying anything else. He can’t just talk like everything is normal.

“Fred? Is everything alright?” FP sounds a bit more awake but not fully. Fred can’t force himself to apologize for waking him up.

There’s a few more seconds of silence before FP speaks again, “what happened, Fred?”

“I… I can’t…” Fred has to take a deep breath to stop himself from crying.

“I’ll be right there,” FP says and Fred lets go of that breath.

“Thank you,” he says, and it’s ridiculous how thankful he sounds.

“Of course,” FP returns, no pause in the conversation. “Are you at your house?”

Fred nods, then realizing FP can’t see it, says, “yeah.”

“Just hang tight,” FP says and then disconnects.

When the phone rings back in his hand, it’s been over fifteen minutes and Fred has just been staring down at it.

Even though Fred is fully aware that Archie is upstairs, asleep, part of him can’t help but to think that it’s going to be more bad news, this time something that he won’t be able to come back from.

But the phone continues to ring and Fred doesn’t want Archie to be woken up by it, so with a deep breath he picks up. He doesn’t get a chance to say anything before FP says, “I’m outside, by the kitchen.”

He disconnects without waiting for a reply and Fred gets up, walking slowly to the door. He’s no longer afraid of bad news; FP is there for him, after all. But he feels… a bit disconnected, if he’s honest with himself.

Fred opens the door and just as he said, FP is standing outside.

FP blinks a couple times, “I didn’t want to knock and wake up Archie.”

Fred nods and continues to stare. FP frowns and walks the couple steps that separate them, leaving almost no space between the two of them.

“Fred, are you okay?”

Now this is a question that Fred has heard a lot over the years, but especially over the last couple, what with Mary leaving him, and having been shot not that long ago. And even when all he wanted to do was yell “no, I’m not fucking okay” Fred had just smiled and said “yes” because very rarely did people really want to know the truth, and the few who did, like Archie and Jughead, absolutely had bigger things to worry about.

But this is FP. FP whom he’s known for decades, and who gave him chance after chance, and who came to him at 3AM just because he didn’t sound right on the phone.

So Fred just shakes his head and FP’s mouth falls at that. “Oh, Fred,” he says and hugs him.

It’s really strange being on the end of a supportive hug when Fred has been the one giving them for so long. It feels really, really good too.

Fred doesn’t even think to feel self-conscious as he hugs back and lets his head fall on FP’s shoulder, who start rubbing circles on his back with his right hand, the left squeezing the end of his back.

They stay like that for a while, but eventually Fred forces himself to let go.

“Thank you for coming. I’m sorry if I woke you up,” Fred says and FP waves the apology away with his right hand, since his left is still holding on to Fred, who doesn’t mind the contact one little bit.

“Now, come, on, let’s go inside and you can tell me what’s got you so worried. How about I make us some tea?”

Fred lets himself be led back, smiling slightly at FP, “you still remember where everything is?”

FP raises an eyebrow, “why, you decided to change things around?”

Fred shakes his head, making his way to the same stool he’d been sitting in before. Yet, with FP walking around the kitchen, clearly knowing his way, but moving as silently as possible as to not wake Archie up, it no longer feels as cold.

“You know I’m not one for changes,” Fred forces himself to reply, even though FP probably wasn’t looking for an answer. But he wants to keep this banal conversation going on, pretending like this is just another normal meeting between old friends, and not like Fred has just had one of the worst nights of his life – which could have so easily have been turned into the worst and God, he can’t let himself go there – and FP is there to comfort him.

FP laughs at that, turning back to send him a smile from where he had been messing with the kettle and Fred takes a deep breath and smiles back.

Neither speaks as FP finishes making some chamomile tea from two bags. He leaves the bag in Fred’s mug, who likes his tea strong and without any sugar, while taking out his, since he only likes a bit of flavor in his. Fred has always seen it as a waste but for all the arguing he’s done about it over the years, FP has proven too stubborn to change his mind.

Besides a splash of honey, FP has also added some cold water to his tea, never one to bother waiting around for his tea to cool down and having burnt his tongue enough times to have learnt to simply speed up the process.

He takes a sip as Fred blows on his tea, enjoying the warmth in his hands, even though it almost feels like too much.

“Do you wanna talk about it?” FP asks, putting his mug down.

“Not really,” Fred replies, glancing at him.

“Okay,” FP nods and picks his tea back up.

Fred takes a deep breath and takes a sip. Still too hot. He makes a face at it and FP smiles at him.

For the first time since his phone rang with the sheriff’s number, Fred feels like everything is going to be alright.

.

It’s the 31st of December and in true teenage fashion, Archie already has plans. In fact, from what Fred gathered there’s quite a couple parties going on. Fred just didn’t quite get if Archie was planning on going to the one that Veronica was definitely going to, or the one she wasn’t planning to attend. Either way, Veronica’s name had been mentioned several times.

For the last two years Fred hasn’t done anything special, just hanged around the house by himself, gone outside to see the fireworks, though the first year Mary hadn’t been there, he’d actually been asleep by that point.

Anyway, Fred has big feelings about Christmas. New Year… not so much.

Yet, this year he had wanted to make a sort of promise to himself and, most importantly, to the universe: the Andrews have suffered enough that year and should be left alone for, at least, the next decade.

So Fred had invited FP over for dinner, even though when he’d called him, he had been more nervous than usual, telling himself how he was probably busy with the Serpents but FP had been quick to shut that train of thought down.

“I never turn down free food. Besides, it’d be good to have a quiet night in,” had been FP’s quick reply, but before Fred could ask what was going on to stop him from having regular quiet nights, FP had told him his break was about to finish and that he’d be at his house around 8.

By the time Fred is taking out the lasagna he’s made for dinner out of the oven, Archie has left the house in a pretty fancy suit and someone’s knocking at his front door. It’s still a quarter to eight, which makes Fred smile because FP isn’t usually one to be early, not unless something serious is going on.

But it isn’t FP at the door. It’s Alice.

Fred has to force himself not to let the smile fall, and not even that much for politeness sake, mostly because Alice will zero in on that in a matter of seconds. Sometimes Fred is sure that she’s been a spy in a former life.

“Hello, Fred,” Alice says, smiling at him. It’s Alice Cooper’s brand smile: showing off her pearly white teeth, but without stretching so much that the wrinkles around her face are noticeable. It’s the kind of smile that spells trouble, though maybe Fred’s being prejudiced. He thinks everything with Alice spells trouble.

“Hello, Alice. How was your Christmas?”

“Oh, you know, same old, same old. Anyway, I just came by to give you this,” Alice responds, pretty much pushing the plate in her hands against his chest.

Fred grabs it more automatically than anything else. One did not turn down Alice’s food, partly because it was the stuff of legends, but mostly because Fred is sure she has a small notebook where she writes the names of everyone who has done her some wrong, and saying no to her food just seems like something Alice would find suspicious.

“Thank you, Alice, but you really didn’t have to.”

Alice shrugs, “nonsense, it’s what friends do. Besides, Archie told Betty, who told me, that you’re having a guest for dinner. And let’s be honest, as good of a cook as you are, your desserts have never been anything extraordinary. I just want your date to be wowed.”

“It’s not a date,” Fred immediately says.

“Break my heart, why don’t you, Freddie,” another voice says and Fred jumps, not having noticed FP coming up behind Alice.

Alice doesn’t look surprised at all and Fred genuinely can’t tell if she had been expecting him or if she was too hardcore to jump up at people suddenly showing up. Knowing her, Fred would absolutely not be surprised if it was the second option.

She smiles and turns around. “FP, always a pleasure.”

“Alice, you look as beautiful as ever,” FP replies and Fred can’t help but to smile when he hears Alice huff at the compliment.

She doesn’t bother to say anything else to FP before turning back to Fred.

“Well, I must be off, our own desserts are waiting to be finished up. Do enjoy dinner and oh, Fred, remember what we’ve talked about.” Sending him a meaningful look, Alice turns back around and starts going down the steps. As she walks past FP, she says, “FP.”

FP smiles at her back and says, not in a low tone, “hate to see you go, but love to watch you leave!”

Alice doesn’t bother to say or do anything in response, though Fred likes to imagine teenage Alice sending him the bird.

FP climbs up the stairs and Fred shakes his head at him, “you just can’t help yourself, can you?”

FP raises an eyebrow at him, “can you blame me? Alice has a stick so far up her ass, not even ten guys could take it off. I sincerely doubt Hal is the man for the job,” he rolls his eyes.

“And you are?” Fred asks, forcing himself to push past the feeling in his stomach that absolutely does not want an answer to that.

FP sends him a look, “no.” Then he moves past him inside the house, leaving Fred outside, holding the still warm plate.

Fred is pretty sure he sees the curtains in Alice’s house move and with a jolt, forces himself inside.

.

They eat in an awkward atmosphere. Fred doesn’t know why, but all the lightness between him and FP seems to have vanished in the air. Since FP took his first bite and told him “it’s good” the only sounds in the kitchen have been from the cutlery against the plates, chewing or whenever one of them takes a swallow of water – the only drink Fred put on the table.

Two days before, the two of them took Archie and Jughead out to a diner slightly out of Riverdale. FP was quite done with being inside Pop’s and enough information about the Black Hood had come out that Archie kept getting weird looks. So it had just seemed better to be away from everyone they knew and who knew them.

And it had been fun. There had been moments where someone suddenly said something that made everyone else remember all the shit they were going through – Fred having been shot, Archie… attacked, Jughead and FP and the Serpents – but for the most part, it had felt like old times, before… Fred couldn’t even remember when it was he’d last felt his life wasn’t being held together by glue.

“Everything alright?” He finally asks FP when he’s about finished with his first serving.

FP doesn’t look up from where he’s moving the sauce around his plate with the fork, instead making a humming sound to tell Fred he heard him.

Fred frowns but doesn’t say anything, instead taking a bite of his own plate. It tastes like ash on his mouth.

“Do you really think I’m interested in Alice?” FP asks out of the blue, finally looking up, freezing Fred on the spot.

He finishes chewing and swallows. “What do you mean?” He takes a gulp from his water.

“That joke I made about Harold not being man enough to take the stick out of Alice’s ass. And then you asked if I thought I was.”

Fred remembers – it just happened –, he just doesn’t know what to answer. He feels it’s not just presumptuous to say “well, no, because it honestly feels like we’ve been going on dates for the past weeks” but also like it could ruin the fragile friendship they’ve managed to salvage.

But if he just laughs it off and says, “you always had a thing for her”, Fred feels like FP will just walk out the door. Truthfully, even though he can imagine FP and Alice falling into bed, he doesn’t think that’s what either of them wants right now.

He feels like a coward, not just coming out and saying what he means. Which sucks because he was shot some months before and if that doesn’t put a perspective on life, on just how short it can be, how it can be taken from you just like that, then what was the point?

FP is still waiting on an answer, looking at Fred. He doesn’t look neither angry nor happy; he’s just waiting him out and once again, Fred remembers that out of everyone who’s said Jughead is too quiet and who tried to get him out of that headspace, FP isn’t one of those, he just lets his son have his space.

It’s that, more than anything else, that finally prompts Fred to answer. “No, I don’t.”

FP stares at him for a bit longer. Then he smiles, “good.”

And just like that, the tension is gone and FP takes another serving of the lasagna. “This really is good.”

“Thanks,” Fred replies and eats another bite. It doesn’t taste like ash anymore, in fact, it reminds him of how his mom used to make them. He tells FP that; he spent enough time in the Andrews’ residence to become familiar with Mrs. Andrews’ lasagna.

FP laughs, “yeah, but yours doesn’t have as much bechamel sauce.”

Fred laughs too. He’d forgotten that. “It was my dad’s fault. He always told her it was delicious, that there was nothing to be changed.”

“I agree,” FP tells him with another look and Fred honestly can’t tell if he’s talking about his dad’s opinion on his mom’s lasagna or if he means this one, Fred’s lasagna. Or maybe it’s something completely different. Fred can’t be sure, but it doesn’t make him feel frustrated.

Even when they were kids, Fred never knew everything that went through FP’s head. Most times, he was pretty straightforward and blunt, but sometimes, usually when no one was paying him any attention, he was quiet and it was like there was nothing Fred could do to take him out of his own mind. Not unlike Jughead, really.

But it never angered Fred. Sometimes it made him try harder, to understand just what it was that was so interesting to FP, but most times he just stared and accepted the quietness. Everyone deserved their own privacy and Fred didn’t mind in the least. Eventually, FP always got himself out of that.

Now, he’s paying attention to Fred and only Fred, who thinks “I’m an idiot” because yeah, FP isn’t interested in Alice. Maybe they haven’t held hands or even kissed but this isn’t a teenager’s soap. It’s pretty damn clear what’s happening – they’re having dinner together for New Year’s Eve for crying out loud.

It makes Fred smile.

“Why you so happy?” FP asks, but he’s smiling too.

What Fred is thinking, is that he feels this is going to be a good year. But he doesn’t want to jinx it, so what he says instead is, “I’m just feeling good.”

“Yeah?” FP asks and his eyes soften. Fred takes a deep breath, braving himself, and then puts a hand on top of the one FP has lying on the table.

“Yeah,” he answers.

FP gives him a squeeze, then let’s go and gets up. He goes around the table. Fred turns on his stool so that he’s turned towards him, but he doesn’t get up.

FP is a large guy but Fred doesn’t feel intimidated at all. FP puts each hand on Fred’s face. Then he bends down and kisses him.

Fred sighs against FP’s lips. It’s not a hurried kiss nor does it feel particularly ardent. It just feels… It reminds Fred of summer. The summers when they were still in school and his biggest worry was who to invite to prom and the summers when they had their own kids and took them fishing. It simply feels light.

FP is the first one to lean back, though he doesn’t move his hands.

“I thought about kissing you at midnight but I didn’t want you to start spouting some bullshit about me being interested in Hermione or any other woman or man around.”

Fred can’t help it; he laughs.

“I guess sometimes I can be a bit slow on the uptake.”

FP shrugs, “it’s alright. I ain’t going anywhere.”

That just makes Fred’s smile soften. He grabs onto FP’s neck so he bends down and they can kiss again.

Yeah, it’s going to be a good year. He can feel it.


End file.
